


Runaways

by uaevuon



Series: In All Of Us [4]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Asexual Character, Everyone is Trans, Nonbinary Character, Support Group, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 11:23:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5495369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uaevuon/pseuds/uaevuon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armin, Eren, and Mikasa find a new home and new friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In With The New

Armin kicked his legs back and forth in his excitement. He sat on the back edge of Mikasa’s truck, watching to make sure no-one took what was already packed while she and Eren brought down the rest of their stuff (as if anyone but them would be awake at this hour). His books and other belongings were already packed, and his clothes were separated into two bags -- shit he was willing to wear or modify, and shit he was ready to burn. 

Unlike his friends, he had no-one his size to trade with, and everything he wanted to burn was too small to donate anyway. 

Eren and Mikasa had just decided to switch wardrobes; it was easier than any other options, and faster, and it wasn’t as if either of them had put enough care into their clothes to have any style that either could object to. Armin had stolen one of Eren’s -- now Mikasa’s -- dresses; he had none of his own, and even if it hung loose and too long it felt nice to just do something _different_ for once. 

“This is it,” Eren said, coming out the door with a taped-up cardboard box marked “BULLSHIT”. Mikasa, behind him, had three, all marked “clothes”. After they’d loaded those boxes, they loosened the house keys from their key rings and dropped them on the front porch. Their parents could deal with that in the morning. 

Armin hopped off the back of the truck and dusted off his dress. “Finally,” he said. “Where are we going to burn my clothes?”

“Docks,” Mikasa said. “There are enough trash cans, we’ll find an empty one.”

The blaze was enough to bring a smile even to Mikasa’s face. It died down fast -- they’d certainly given it a lot of fuel at once. But it was still energising, and they all got back in the illegally parked truck and headed out. 

They were free. 

\---

“You sure about this?” Eren asked. Mikasa pulled to a stop in front of a quaint little house, taller than it was wide and painted in vivid yellows and blues. 

“Yes,” Armin said. “He’s taken in runaways before.”

“He owns a drag bar,” Mikasa said with distaste. 

“All you know about drag is from those horror stories you find on the internet. They’re not all like that. There’s a couple trans girls that work there, I checked.” Armin leaned forward, putting his head between his friends’ seats. “And the kids who’ve stayed with him all say he was super sweet.”

“You sure you’re not just trusting him because he has the same last name as you?”

Armin huffed. “Maybe I am. But I’m going anyway.” He climbed over Eren in the passenger seat and let himself out. “You can come with me or not.” 

“W-wait, Armin!” Eren unbuckled himself and jumped out after his friend. Mikasa silently got out the other side. 

Armin was the one to ring the doorbell. He bounced on the balls of his feet, his borrowed dress flouncing around him. The door opened, and he threw out a hand to greet the elderly man who answered. “Hi! I’m Armin.”

The man’s eyes widened. “Oh! You’re early.” He shook Armin’s hand. “I’m Adam. And you…?” He looked behind Armin with curious eyes. 

“Eren.” “Mikasa.”

“Nice to meet you.” He shook their hands as well. “Do you want to come in and talk for a bit before you get settled?”

Armin left the decision up to his friends. He wanted to, but he wasn’t going to force them, and he wasn’t going in without them either.

“Sure,” Eren said. Mikasa nodded. 

They sat around his kitchen table, and Adam put on a pot of hot water to boil and set out a box of assorted tea bags. “So. Tell me why you’re here.”

“We ran away from home,” Eren offered. “Cause our parents didn’t like that we’re trans.”

“Why _here_ though? My house.”

Ah. That was Armin’s turf. “The area seemed… welcoming. It was within a day’s drive, and you replied to my search saying you had room for all of us.”

“It’s not perfect, by any means.”

“It doesn’t have to be. It doesn’t even have to be better than where we were. We just want to have a place to sleep where someone cares about us, and not the people they want us to be.”

Adam smiled, but somehow it looked a little sad. “Well, I can’t promise this area is better than where you came from. But you will have support here.”

“What about you?” Mikasa asked. “Why do you take in trans kids?”

Adam shrugged. “It’s the right thing to do, isn’t it? But I guess the real reason is that my wife and kids were all disgusted by my line of work, and I haven’t seen them in years, and I know it’s people like them who are going to be your greatest opposition. I want to make up for how I couldn’t teach them better.”

“So you feel like you’re indebted?”

“Heh, no. If it was a debt then I could pay it off. This is constant work. I’ll stop when I’m dead.” The kettle whistled, and Adam got up to pour a few mugs. He took his teabag first and then offered the box around. “Any more questions? I’ll answer anything you want to know.”

\---

It was well into the evening that Eren, and finally Mikasa’s doubts were assuaged, at least enough to stay the night. They brought in their more necessary effects and covered the back of the truck with a tarp provided by Adam, and moved into the second-floor rooms. Eren’s, in the middle, had a fire escape that also attached to the floor above; a bathroom connected his room to Armin’s, and a door that could be locked from both sides connected to Mikasa’s. 

Partway through the night, Armin came through that bathroom and knocked on Eren’s door, asking to be let in. Mikasa joined them not long after, coming through the hall instead. They all piled onto Eren’s bed, which wasn’t really big enough to fit them but they did it anyway.


	2. Meet and Greet

Eren, Armin, and Mikasa stood in the middle of a small but unfamiliar parking lot, a choice of two buildings before them. 

“Which one is it?” Armin asked. 

Eren looked at the flier he held, then at the signs above each door. “I don’t know. They’re both part of the organisation.” 

Mikasa headed for the one with a glass door. “Let’s ask.” She strode in, her scarf fluttering in the breeze as she opened the door. “Excuse me.” She knocked on the front counter. “Is this where the trans youth group is held?”

The secretary pushed her hair out of her face and regarded Mikasa with an expression that screamed _I did not sign up for this_. Her tone was no less judgmental. “No, this is the clinic. Try the education center.” She cocked her head in the direction of the building with the red door. 

“Thank you.” Mikasa was unaffected by her rudeness, and spun on her heel to leave. She spotted a bowl of free condoms and other protective barriers, and she grabbed one, handing it off to Armin when she left the building. His face went pink, and Eren coughed into his hand, sounding suspiciously like “get some”. 

Armin jammed the condom into his pocket; anything to hide it. 

“Other building. Come on.” Mikasa led the way, up the stairs to the door, and she tried turning the handle; it was locked. 

“Well, we are early,” Armin said. 

A car door slammed, and a man, or someone who presented rather masculine, stepped out, immediately running his hands through his dark hair and holding it in place against the wind. “You here for the trans group?” he called out, climbing the steps. Before the trio could respond, he pushed his way between them and unlocked the door. He looked at each of them in turn; Eren first, then Mikasa, then Armin, who nodded. “Hmph. Come on in.” He shoved the door open by turning the knob and then slamming into it, using the entire weight of his body to dislodge it. “The door sticks,” he explained, and he stepped in, holding the door open with the tips of his fingers until Mikasa caught it. 

He unlocked a white door inside, propping it open, and started setting up chairs in a circle in the colourful room beyond. He cleared his throat. “Uh, welcome. I’m Levi. ‘He’ pronouns, unless I’m in drag. I’m an intern here. The group coordinators should be here in a few minutes.”

“Do you, um, usually get a big group?” Eren asked. He took his hands out of his pockets, straightening his back a little. 

“There’s two coordinators, seven groupies aside from you all, and there’s me. I’d call us pretty big for a trans support group.”

“So everyone in the group is trans?”

Levi nodded. “Assuming you three all are, that is.”

“You too?”

Levi smirked. “‘Course. I’m non-binary. Hey, can I get all your pronouns?”

“He,” Eren said. 

“She,” Mikasa said. 

“He?” Armin said.

Levi watched Armin for a few moments. “He… question mark.”

Armin shrugged. “I’m a demiboy. So, he, or…” He looked down at his feet. “You know, anything. Anything’s fine.”

“I’ll use ‘he’, if that’s alright with you.”

“That’s fine.”

At that moment, the front door opened with a thump and an ear-splitting screech, as two more people pushed their way in and the door’s hinges squealed. A gasp followed, and then a more human squeal to rival the volume of the door’s. “Erwin, look! Newbies!”

The owner of the voice dashed into the room, hands latching onto the face of the nearest teenager, who happened to be Eren. “Ohhhh, so cute! They’re like babies! Or kittens! Yeah, much more like kittens.”

“Don’t attack the brats, Hanji.”

“Um. Ow.” Eren protested weakly against his face being smushed, and his eyes lifted to the taller man behind the person abusing his cheeks. “ _Um._ ”

“Oh, I love this part,” Levi murmured. 

“Am I dreaming?” Eren said. His face was still squished between Hanji’s hands, but he barely felt it, his eyes locked with Erwin’s. “This can’t be real. Erwin… Erwin Smith? Like from the movies?”

Erwin smiled, and Eren just about passed out. “The very same.”

“You’re…” Eren stuttered a few times, and then blurted out, “you’re transgender?”

Erwin just nodded, but Hanji cooed at how cute Eren’s flusterment was, and Levi snickered into his hand. 

Armin and Mikasa were shock-still, just as starstruck as Eren but working through their surprise silently. They, unlike Eren, hadn’t spent years fantasizing about one day having a body just like Erwin’s, and hurt by the fact that no amount of artificial testosterone would be enough to make that possible. 

Not so much of a ‘fact’, was it?

“You’re blocking the door.” Levi shoved Erwin and Hanji out of the way, pushing them towards the circle of chairs; he raised his eyebrows at Eren as he passed. “Park your asses, all of you. You too, Mr. Starry-Eyes.” When Eren didn’t budge, Levi sighed and grabbed him around the neck of his shirt, dragging him to an empty chair next to Armin and sitting him down in it. “Get over it, kid; I’m not going to manhandle you for two hours a week because you can’t pick your jaw up off the floor on your own.” Levi more or less fell into the chair next to Eren, who had finally quit his attempted staring contest with Erwin in favor of looking at his hands. 

“Eren’s got a bit of a hero-worship thing going on,” Armin said. Eren, wide-eyed, shoved at him, letting out a little whine from the back of his throat. 

“I could tell.”

“So!” Hanji started. “How did you three find out about us?”

“We’re living with Adam,” Armin answered. 

Hanji’s mouth curved into an O. “You’re the ones who ran away from home.” All three teens nodded. “I wasn’t sure you’d be coming. Glad you could make it. I’m sure you’ve had a hell of a time getting here.”

“We did,” Mikasa said. “But we’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

“That’s good.” Hanji looked to the door, where yet another person was slamming themself against it. “I thought I propped that open.”

There was yet another cacophonous squealing sound, and the door swung open once more, revealing what appeared to be two very large hipsters. The hoods of their parkas mostly covered their faces, and as such Eren, the only one of his trio who could see the door, could describe them only as “the tall one” and “the even taller one”. They entered, and behind them were another four people, one of them in a similar parka but much shorter than the first two. 

Stopping at the threshold of the second door, the short one asked, “Who the fuck are these three?”

“Newbies,” Hanji answered. “Be nice.”

“I don’t like strangers.” The hood flipped down anyway, revealing bright yellow hair in a bun, and a severe face with a blank expression. 

“Let’s not be strangers, then. Sit down, and we’ll all introduce ourselves.”

The regulars arranged themselves around the circle. The three people in parkas all sat next to each other, and the one without a hood stared at the trio of newcomers. 

Erwin clapped his hands together. “It’s 2:30! Time to start the meeting. Everyone please introduce yourself with your name, pronouns, and a high and low for you this past week. I’ll start. I’m Erwin, he/him pronouns. My low was that my dog got sick--” a chorus of “aww!”s and “oh no!”s went around the circle. “My high was that my dog got better.” This revelation was followed by cheering. 

“Ymir, she/her. My low was I didn’t get the grant for my surgery. I didn’t expect to get it, but it still sucks. My high was I got off work last night so I got to see my girl dance.” She smiled down at the woman next to her. 

“I’m Krista. She/her pronouns. My high is I got a new personal record on highest tips this week.”

Levi interrupted Krista. “Still haven’t beaten me, bitch.”

“Shush, I’m talking. And I’m close, anyway.”

“In your _dreams_ , Princess.”

Krista glared at him; despite her cute appearance, she looked suddenly deadly. “My low is seeing you again, dickface. And that’s still Queen to you.”

The de-hooded parka person was next. “I’m Annie. I use she/her pronouns. Don’t talk to me about trans shit outside of here. My low is a stray cat died in my backyard and it’s starting to smell. My high is that in my kickboxing class, I kicked a sexist asshole so hard in the face he passed out.”

Next to her was the taller of the two tall parka-wearers; a high-pitched, quiet voice came from under the hood. “I was… hoping to have a name picked out before anyone new came. I guess I’m still Leah for now.” The hood came down; long, wavy brown hair in two braids disappeared under the jacket collar. “He/him pronouns, but only in here. My high is I’m here. My low is… my parents cancelled Netflix because they don’t want me watching _Orange is the New Black_.”

“You can watch it with us,” Ymir offered. “We were going to start later this week.”

“Thank you. I’d like that.”

“I’m Renee, he/him but only here.” The last parka’d figure pulled down his hood. His hair was shorter, but still down to his shoulders in a feminine cut. “My high is I’m here too. My low is that our high school cut the women’s hockey team. Not enough people interested, I guess.” Leah put her hand on Renee’s in a comforting gesture, and they leaned against each other. 

"My name's Jean. He/him pronouns. I legally changed my name, so that's my high. My low is that I found out I do have complete androgen insensitivity, so T won't work on me, which basically means I can never get my sex marker changed. Also, my, uh. My best binder kind of fell apart." Jean scratched at his chest. He was completely flat under a backup binder, but he was still self-conscious about it. 

“Do you need a new one?” Hanji asked, getting up out of their chair. 

“Nah, I still have four more. They’re just not as good. Cheap ones, you know?” He looked across the few feet of empty space next to him towards Mikasa. “Your turn,” he said, and then, “Wow. You have really pretty hair.”

“Thanks…” Mikasa touched the ends of her hair, then smoothed her scarf. “I’m Mikasa. She/her. I don’t really have a high or low.”

“Is there anything you want to share?” Hanji asked. 

Mikasa shook her head. “I’m still getting used to the new life. Not sure how to look at everything yet. We ran away from home over the summer and were living in a homeless shelter for a while,” she explained. “We just moved in with Adam. It’s a big change from having to hide ourselves away.

“I think having a permanent, safe roof over our heads is a good high. I can’t think of a low.” She picked at her skirt, a knee-length denim one that until a month ago had been Eren’s. The seams were a little frayed and it was wide around the hips, but mostly the right size. 

Armin took Mikasa’s silence as a cue that he should speak. “I’m Armin. He pronouns, or anything you want to use. My high is also moving in with Adam. We were worried he would be a creep. But he’s been great, and really accommodating for all of us.” He hesitated a little, thinking, swinging his legs because his feet didn’t quite touch the ground while he sat all the way back in his chair. “Um, this isn’t really a low, but it’s kind of weird… The high school we’re going to, we told them we’re trans and they’ve been supportive, but I guess they thought I was a trans girl? They put me in the girls’ locker room for gym. Which isn’t bad or anything! It’s just, um, not right. So, yeah.”

“Are you going to PHS?” Annie asked, referring to the high school in town.

“No, we’re at North.” It was in the next town over. 

Annie went from looking sort of crabby to positively murderous. “Wish they’d been so accommodating when I went there.”

“Oh. Well, at least they pulled their heads out of their butts.” Everyone but Annie laughed. “Maybe you left an impression on them?”

“I wasn’t out. They would’ve expelled me.”

The room went quiet, and the silence was heavy and awkward until Hanji broke it. “Last newbie! Tell us about yourself.”

“Um. Okay.” Eren reached out and took Armin’s hand, holding it like they had ever since they were kids. “I’m Eren. He/him pronouns. My low is that some guys at school tried to pick on Armin, and my high is that Mikasa and I scared the shit out of them so I don’t think they’ll be trying that again.”

“Don’t you mean Mikasa scared them?” Armin said. 

“I helped!” Eren’s voice cracked. 

“You yelled at them and tried to punch one of them, and Mikasa pretty much saved your life.”

Eren groaned. “Why am I even nice to you?”

Armin leaned over towards Eren and sprawled across his legs. “Because you loooove me!”

Eren groaned again, and he messed up Armin’s hair. 

“Are you two dating?” Levi asked. 

“No,” Eren said. “We’re friends. We grew up together, so we still do stuff like this.”

Levi raised his eyebrows. “Hm.” He shifted in his chair. “I’m Levi, he/him. Low is I got rejected from all the colleges I applied to, again. No surprise there, but, you know, means I still suck too much to transfer. My high is that going to Mercer means I get to stick around with you shitheads.” 

“Awww, how sweet!” Hanji reached over and swung an arm around Levi’s neck, giving him a rough hug. 

“Hanji. Choking me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” They let him go. “I’m Hanji. I use they/them, ji/jir, or it pronouns.”

“Really?” Mikasa asked. “‘It’? I’ve been called that as an insult, why would you want that?”

“Pronouns are only an insult if they’re the wrong ones. ‘It’ fits me. I think It’s a perfectly good neutral pronoun, but it’s not for everyone, especially since it has a history of being dehumanising.” 

“Okay…”

“If it makes you uncomfortable, though, you don’t have to use it for me. Few people do. ‘They’ is perfectly fine.” Hanji clapped their hands. “My low this week was that Levi ran out of tea, which as we all know is hell for everyone he comes in contact with.”

“Fuck yourself,” Levi said.

“Yes, sweetie. My high is that I’m going back to school! I’ll be starting my Master’s in neuroscience next semester, aaaat--” They reached out and grabbed Levi’s cheek. “Ruuuutgeeeeerrrsssss!!!!!”

“Fuck yourseeeeeelf!!!!” Levi singsonged. Rutgers University was one of the colleges he’d applied to, and from which he’d been rejected twice. “Seriously, you don’t need to rub it in.”

“You didn’t get into Rutgers?” Armin asked of Levi. “I thought everyone got in there.”

Levi gave him The Look, a withering glare meant to disinfect, disarm, and destroy. “Not every high school is regarded as highly as North, you know. I went to a shithole, and it makes a lot of difference. Your straight C’s count as much as my straight A’s.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t realise.” 

“Not your fault, but get your head out of your ass. You’ve only been there, what, two weeks? And you’ve already picked up that poisonous, elitist shit.”

“Well, we’re applying this year,” Armin explained. “The counselors always tell us to apply to Rutgers as a backup. I didn’t know it was just us.”

“Lucky you.”

“Hey,” Hanji interjected. “Let’s not fight here, okay? You two can talk it out nicely later.” 

“Okay,” Armin agreed. Levi didn’t say anything. “I would actually like to talk to you more; I want to make sure I don’t make that kind of mistake again,” Armin said. 

Levi looked at him, at least, but still said nothing. 

Hanji transitioned immediately from introductions to the meat of the meeting. “We’re having a discussion today, which I think is great since we have newbies. Erwin, you want to explain?”

“Sure.” Erwin ran a hand through his graying blond hair and sat up straighter. “At our last meeting, a few of you mentioned some stereotypes of trans people that bother you. It wasn’t related to the topic, so we kind of brushed it aside, but it’s, I think, an important conversation to have. I’d like to start with stereotypes, and later on if we have time we can expand to any portrayals of trans people or language used about us that make you uncomfortable, or that you think contribute to transphobia.”

Krista spoke first. “As a drag queen and trans girl, I am tired of the stereotype that all trans women are drag queens who get too into it.”

“Amen,” Levi said.

“Like, yeah, we put on dresses and makeup and wigs and bind our dicks and stuff our bras. But we do that because we’re girls, not because we’re men pretending to be women. I’ve left a lot of groups because the performers repeatedly told me I didn’t have to carry the drag off stage. I think the guys have a similar thing, where people think you’re really butch lesbians.”

“Yup,” Jean confirmed. “Mom always tells me it’s okay if I want to marry a girl, I don’t have to be a boy to do it. Jesus, I’m still kind of bi, but come on.”

“I also hate the idea that we all transition and we’re not really trans until then.”

“Yes!” Renee nearly shouted. “The fact that a third of the people in this room have at least started a medical transition is a statistical anomaly; most of us just _can’t_ , either because we don’t have the money or we’re not out or whatever. Some of us don’t even _want_ to transition. And we’re not any less valid if we don’t!” He sat back and shook his head. “Sorry. It just pisses me off a lot. I’m out on the internet, you know? And I get these assholes every once in a while telling me I’m not a ‘real man’ just ‘cause I don’t care if I transition or not. It’d be nice to go on T, you know? But, whatever.”

“No need to apologise,” Erwin said. 

“I agree with you, definitely,” Armin said. “I’m out online too. Or, you know, I try to be, but I get a lot of people telling me I’m really cis because I’m DMAB and I still use ‘he’ pronouns and my birth name, and I don’t want to transition. But… I’m… not.” He waved his hands in front of him, gesticulating while he tried to find the right words. “It’s just… there’s more than one way to be trans, you know? One time I watched this movie about a trans woman, and I swear all of the, what, fifteen trans people in that movie had transitioned. It was a shitty movie, but still, it’s pretty well-known and people think it’s such an accurate portrayal of how trans people live.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, how do you identify?” Krista asked. “I might have missed it.”

“Oh, I said it before you got here, I think… But I’m a demiboy. Like, sort of a guy, sort of non-binary.”

“I’m a demigirl! The ‘demi-’ part for me is more agender.”

“See?” Eren said. “I told you you wouldn’t be the only one.”

\---

“Hey, Levi.” Armin stepped to the side of the path, into a little garden between the clinic and education centre. “I just want to apologise again for what I said before. It was really ignorant and I should have known better.”

Levi was stunned Armin actually cared enough to apologise, but he didn’t show it. “Apology accepted. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so harsh on you. Can’t blame you for the shit you’re fed.”

“No, I get it. You have every right to defend yourself.”

“Damn right I do. But so do you.” Levi took out a pack of cigarettes. “You mind if I…?”

“Go ahead.”

“Thanks.” He bit down on one and lit it. “Ran out of tea and my new box hasn’t come in yet, so this is all I’ve got to calm me down.”

“Nicotine is a stimulant.”

“So is caffeine.” Levi turned his head to blow out his smoke away from Armin’s face. “It’s all about moderation.”

“Right.” Armin shuffled a little bit. “So, you’re in college.”

Levi looked at Armin with a bit of question in his eyes; didn’t he have somewhere to be after this? But it seemed like Eren and Mikasa were still hanging around too. “I am.” 

“What’s your major?”

“Psychology? Or sociology. I haven’t actually declared yet. I want to do social work.” He took another drag from his cigarette, watching Armin through his fringe. “Surprised?”

“Doesn’t really seem like you.”

He could have said something to the effect of _you barely know me_ , but he didn’t. “How I am casually is not how I am professionally. Imagine me with glasses and a beanie and a blazer over a band shirt, taking studious notes in the first row of a lecture hall.”

Armin tried to reconcile that image with the person in front of him, dressed all in white with a shirt long enough to be a dress over leggings, three bar piercings through one eyebrow and two loops in his lower lip, eyes rimmed by eyeliner clearly intended to hide the dark circles. Despite that Levi had shown up that day in something similar to what he described and changed in the bathroom, Armin couldn’t bring up that image again, and certainly not with a backdrop of the Nerd Seat. “I can’t.”

Levi lifted up the side of his long shirt and untucked a pair of wire glasses from his waistband, placing them on his face as he adjusted his shoulder bag. “I can give you this much.”

What slipped out unbidden from Armin’s mouth was the single word, “Cute.” Immediately after, he blushed furiously and threw up his hands. “I-I mean!”

Levi felt his own face heat and sucked on his cigarette for a reason to cover his face. It only served him for so long though, so he decided instead to put Armin out of his misery. He held out the cigarette. “Want some?”

“Okay.” 

“You don’t have to.” 

“I want to.” He stepped forward, face still flaming, reaching out to take it. 

Instead, Levi held it up right to Armin’s mouth. “Suck.”

Armin noticed the clear innuendo, but he went for it anyway. He got only the tiniest bit of smoke in before he coughed violently. 

“It’s okay, you won’t get it all down the first time.” Levi put the cigarette right back in his mouth. It wasn’t like he could taste Armin on it or anything, but it still made him kind of shivery to think it was an indirect kiss. 

Armin, still coughing, smacked Levi’s arm. When his airway cleared, he gasped out, “Stop that. I’m gonna choke.” 

“We can work on that.” 

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I wasn’t.” Levi waited until Armin looked at him. “I was being serious. Maybe I wouldn’t be the best partner, but you’re cute, and you clearly think I am. Go out with me?” All of this he said with his usual deadpan expression, and Armin couldn’t decide if that made him seem serious or uncaring. 

When Armin didn’t respond for a while, Levi sighed and dropped his finished cigarette to the ground. “Well, think about it. I’ll see you around.”

He stalked off, looking infinitesimally glum, and Armin watched him go. 

“What was that?” Eren asked, coming up and interrupting Armin’s steady line of brain static. 

“He’s making fun of me,” Armin said. “I’m sure.”

“What did he say? I’ll smack him,” Eren said. 

“I’ll smack the bastard, too,” Krista added. “He promised not to make fun of newbies.” 

“He asked me to go out with him.” Armin laughed without a trace of humour. “Like I’d believe that.” 

Krista’s eyes went wide. “Whoa-- Armin, that wasn’t making fun.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I live with him. He never goes out with anyone. I thought he wasn’t interested. If he’s asking you out, he means it.” 

“I… It’s really soon, I barely know him!”

“Do you like him?”

Armin’s blush returned with a vengeance, and he fidgeted a little. “I guess.”

“Then go out with him and get to know him better. That’s how this shit works.”

“Are you sure?”

Krista gave him the most intense “are you serious?” look he’d ever seen on a person. “I’ve been with Ymir for a year and we’re still going strong, I think I know what I’m talking about.”

“A year isn’t that long.” 

“And are you gonna count him out right now ‘cause you don’t know if it’ll be forever? You’re eighteen. You’ve got plenty of time to worry about that. Tell him, Eren.”

Eren held up his hands. “Hey, I’m asexual. I wouldn’t know. But, well, I think you should.” 

“I don’t know…” Armin mumbled. 

Eren shrugged and took his shoulder, spinning Armin around, and then pushed him towards Levi, who was lighting another cigarette at the other end of the small parking lot. “ _Go_ ,” he said, leaving no room for argument. 

So Armin went, nerves piling on top of each other as he crossed the lot, but about ten feet from Levi he stopped. He screwed his eyes shut and clenched his fists, before letting loose -- “I’ll go out with you!”

Levi turned, cigarette still between his lips; he took it out and let his smoke swirl out around his lips. “That was fast.” 

“...Krista and Eren convinced me.”

“Well if you need _convincing_...” Levi started to turn back around, bringing his cigarette up to his lips again. 

“I don’t. I already wanted to, they just made me say it.” 

Levi looked Armin up and down, then mumbled around his cigarette, “Come here.” 

Armin stepped up to him, not expecting Levi to wrap an arm around his waist and tug him closer. 

Levi’s eyebrows did some funny up-down like he hadn’t really expected to get this far, and was amused by it. He waited a moment, and when Armin stayed still he leaned his head towards Armin’s just a little. 

Armin closed his eyes, very slowly, like a cat showing trust, and let Levi kiss him. 

There was a little bit of cheering across the parking lot, but Armin paid it no mind, because he was in a lovely kiss, his first since he was a child when he and Eren had wondered what it was like. 

And then Levi backed off. “I’ll kiss you better when I don’t taste like ash.” 

“Um.” Armin shivered. “Okay.” 

“I mean, hopefully. That was, uh, kind of my first kiss.”

“I couldn’t tell.”

“Oh. Good.”

“I’ll call you?” 

“Uh, I don’t really have a cell phone.” Armin was starting to really feel how close Levi was. They were pressed chest-to-chest and it was really warm. 

“I’ll call Adam and ask for you.”

It was a little embarrassing, but Armin couldn’t really think of another option. “Sure.”

Levi seemed to finally realise their proximity, and he let go of Armin and stepped back. “Oh. Um.” he scratched the back of his head, against the grain of his freshly-buzzed undercut. “That was… probably too much. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“Not too much.” Armin halfway closed the distance between them. “I did like it.” It occurred to him that they’d sort of switched roles just then -- Armin suddenly gained all the confidence he’d ever known himself to have, while Levi seemed to shrink with nerves. Armin knew where his own reaction came from, but he didn’t understand Levi’s. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Levi said. “I just thought I was ace. Like, really ace.” He flicked a long bit of ash off his cigarette, then drew it in for a last puff -- it had almost burned all the way down while he was distracted. 

“Well, there’s… there’s a middle ground. It’s a spectrum like everything else.” 

“Right. Yeah. I’m gonna think about that. But I will call you,” Levi promised. 

“I’ll be waiting.”


	3. Bee

Armin got a job at a coffeeshop. While Eren and Mikasa continued to look for places where two trans eighteen-year-olds would not be turned away immediately, he worked closing. 

Finding this place had been a surprise; he had walked into the first place he saw with both a rainbow flag sticker and a HELP WANTED sign on the door, inquired about the job, and the owner explained to him the circumstances surrounding it. His son had died recently, and in respect of his memory they wanted to hire a new worker who was transgender, disabled, or both. Armin was both, and the first of either to apply. 

He did schoolwork between taking drink orders, most frequently with a Statistics textbook and a binder full of graph paper open behind the counter. Leah was the one who filled orders; it was awkward working with him, even more so because he was out to the managers but not to the customers, and Armin had to use she pronouns and he could tell how much it hurt Leah to hear them. 

One day, when Armin’s work load was particularly low and his thoughts could wander, he threw out an idea: “How about Louis?”

“Huh?”

“You know, for that… character you were trying to name.” 

Leah’s expression changed entirely, from one of resigned sadness to a shock of hope. “Oh! Um. I-it’s too close to my name, I think.” 

“So you want something completely different?”

“I guess.” Beads of sweat started to appear on his forehead. 

“Hmm… Daniel?”

“No. The only Daniel I know is an asshole.” 

“Robert?”

Leah tilted his head. “I kind of like it… but it doesn’t seem quite right. Honestly, I like names that sound old. LIke, grandpa names.” 

“Frederick.” 

Leah laughed. “No… I don’t know, I feel like Robert was close.” 

“Hmm… How about Bert?”

“It’s a good nickname…” He shrugged. “I feel like the name should be a whole one, you know? Maybe with Bert as the first part. But I don’t know any names like that.”

“Bert… something. Hmm.”

A girl Armin hadn’t seen before -- not surprising, as it was only his first week -- stepped up to the counter to order. “How about Bertolt?” 

“Bertolt?” Armin repeated. He looked between this girl and his co-worker, watching the calm spread over his face. “How’s that?”

“...That’ll work.” 

The girl placed her order, oblivious to the weight of the exchange before her, and went to sit down. 

“Here, hon.” Armin handed the ticket over to the newly-named Bertolt. “You gonna tell everyone next weekend?” he whispered. 

Bertolt smiled and nodded, his face downturned to hide the excitement in his eyes. 

“What should I call you here?” Armin asked. “Since you’re not out.”

“I don’t know.” 

“How about Bee?” 

Bertolt’s lips twitched. “Do I really look like a ‘Bee’ to you?”

“You’re hard-working and you always wear stripes. You definitely look like a Bee.”


End file.
